


Mark

by SomeoneYouDontKnow



Series: Mark [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Kinda, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, and it doesn't end on a very happy note, i can't write happy things, i guess thats why I continue to write them, if i could find any time to write, it's like the first chapter of a fic that could lead to narry, oh do I love plot holes and confusing things, the oh so original soulmate trope, there's a explosion, this isn't even Narry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9383444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeoneYouDontKnow/pseuds/SomeoneYouDontKnow
Summary: Harry just wanted his wallet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this has a lot of open-ended things that aren't fully explained and are kind of up for your imagination. if you don't like that type of writing, this isn't the place for you. 
> 
> (ps this is trash and I should be writing many other things but I'm a procrastinating full-time student who has anxiety and hates everything she writes. so. love me.)

 

It is said that for thousands of years, people have found their soulmates through small, inconspicuous tattoos placed along their bodies. These Marks can be anything; the first words your soulmate will say to you, your soulmate's name, or even a matching symbol you both have. Marks are, to some people, the most important things in their lives. They become consumed by the idea of a perfect match, and drown in it. To other people, their Marks are the worst thing that has ever happened to them.

 

* * *

  


_He doesn’t seem very approachable,_ Harry thought absently, glancing toward the man once again. Niall Horan had been in his sights for a few days, and Harry had been waiting impatiently to be able to strike.

He had his eyes on the man at the moment, inside a crowded bar with disgustingly affectionate couples everywhere. Harry scoffed at them, trying to focus in on his target, instead of on something he'd never have.

Even though Niall’s body language was closed off, Harry couldn’t help noticing he was...pretty, with a boyish face and soft features. If it had been a different place, and a different time, Harry may had been attracted to him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, and Harry had a job to do.

As he crept closer to the table he sat at, Harry tried to ignore the sullen look on Niall’s face; he was just there to steal his wallet, not to feel sorry for the rich man and his rich problems. Quietly, Harry slipped himself into the seat across from Niall, his calm smile slipping into place. Niall glanced up, but quickly lowered his head back to face his lap, his shiny brown hair falling in front of his forehead.

Harry frowned; puzzled at the reaction, but unwilling to give up the cash that the man obviously had spitting out of his pocket. He put on his most charming smile, and tapped the table to get Niall’s attention.

“So, tell me, why’s a handsome man like you sitting all alone?” Harry asked, raising a curious eyebrow at the man. Niall looked up at him curiously, distrust in his eyes.

“Aren’t you like sixteen or something?” He asked, rolling his eyes. “What are you doing here?” He gestured at the surrounding area of the crowded bar. Harry snorted.

“I’m twenty-three,” he tried, but at Niall’s disbelieving look, he sighed. “Okay fine, I’m twenty and a half, but I’m tall and have a good fake id.” He winked.

Niall blew out an exasperated breath from his nose, “and why, might I ask, are you sitting with me in a bar, at half-past eleven?” And, under his breath, “I'm not the friendliest looking person here, anyway.”

Harry, ignoring the last statement, smiled a crooked smile. “What? A boy isn't allowed to make friends?”

“Not when they’re too young to be trying to get into my pants”

“I'm only a year and a half younger than you, Niall.” Harry smirked, only realizing his mistake a second too late. Niall narrowed his eyes, slowly pulling his arms across his chest.

“How the hell do you know my name? How do you know my age?” The brunette was on his feet in seconds, attracting unwanted attention from the bar's other occupants. Harry raised up his hands in surrender, trying to coax Niall back into his seat and away from the door, which he was backing towards.

It turned out, Niall didn't need much convincing. When the explosion went off, the man seemed to be happy to follow Harry out into the night.

 

They ran into the streets, ducking in between cars and pedestrians as they sprinted. Harry tugged on Niall’s hand insistently, directing him through a back alley and towards a door that stood ajar at the end of the small space. The man followed compliantly, slamming the door behind them.

“What the hell was that?” Niall gasped, bent over with his hands on his knees. Harry ignored him, glancing around the familiar room. It had been a while since he had had to use one of the hideouts they’d hid around the cities, but he was glad that it was still there.

“Are you going to answer me?” Niall asked again, finally sinking to the ground in exhaustion.

Harry rolled her eyes. “You don’t get out much do you?” He said. Niall’s small _you could say that_ , answered his question. Harry sighed, “fine. This is a bunker my brother and his...friends made. One of many, actually.” He was careful to avoid Niall's eyes. Instead, he looked around the small room they had occupied. There wasn't much, just cement floors and walls, and some empty wooden crates scattered throughout. Harry happened to know that the second crate to the right of the door held a trapdoor under it, but his companion didn't need to know that quite yet.

“Your brother?” Niall groaned, putting his head in his hands. “And did your brother and his _friends_ have anything to with the fucking bomb back there?”

“I don't know,” Harry lied.

Niall stared him for a split second in silence, and nodded his head. “This is just fucking perfect then.”

“It’s not that bad,” Harry tried, “he, my brother, should be here to pick up soon. So we can get out of here.”

“Us?” Niall’s voice raised alarmingly high. “I’m not going anywhere with your brother and his bomb-loving gang!”

Harry gave him a pointed look. “It's not a gang. And, anyways, what will happen when you try to leave, and the cops are waiting outside to arrest you?” He raised his eyebrows at the other man. Niall didn’t look pretty anymore; he face was red and blotchy, and he looked terrified. Harry had a glimpse of a thought of how easy it was to minioulate the brunette, but quickly pushed it from his mind.

Sighing, Harry went to go sit beside Niall, knocking her shoulder into his. “Hey, it’s not that bad,” he said, trying to sound comforting, “we could have died from the explosion.”

Niall let out a strangled noise, pulling at his hair. “You’re bedside manner is absolutely terrible, did you know that?”

Harry winced, looking around the room to find something to change the subject. He caught a glance of a dark splotch on the outside of Niall's wrist, and smiled silently.

“Found your soulmate?” Harry teased, poking Niall's shoulder hard. The brunette flinched like he’s been slapped, pulling down his sleeve automatically, like he did it constantly.

Harry scrunched his nose at the man’s reaction, and poked him again. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad. What’s her name?”

Niall shook his head and hid his face again. Harry gave him a chance to think, waiting in the cold silence of the room.

Finally, Niall huffed a breath, and gripped his knuckles tight, lifting his head a fraction.

“ _His_ name was Andrew,” he said in a brash shake of his head. Harry took a second to understand the meaning of those words, and gasped a soft breath. He said nothing, because he knew, from experience, that pity just makes everything worse.

They sat in silence for what feels like days, both drifting in and out of consciousness. When Harry jolted awake for the third time, he noticed Niall awake beside him, listening to the police sirens that sounded like they were right outside.

“I don’t have one,” Harry admits quietly. Niall doesn’t look at him, but he can feel his awareness. “That means I’m broken, right? I’m not perfect for anyone. No one’s perfect for me.” Harry clenched his fists. “I don’t have a soulmate.”

Niall wordlessly opened his arms, and Harry sunk into his embrace.

Minutes later, when Harry heard cops just outside of the door, closing in, he slipped his hand into Niall's pocket, grabbing the man’s phone, and what’s left of his wallet. Niall didn't move from his dozing state, only waking up when the police barge through the door, and Harry was long gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
